


Hit me Baby (One More Time)

by Kittyhawke56



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyhawke56/pseuds/Kittyhawke56
Summary: Funny how having someone throwing punches at you for half an hour can really get things heated. But will it get heated in the way Mason is hoping? Possibly.
Relationships: Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Female Detective/Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We're calling this an everything bagel fic.

The evening had started out pleasantly enough.

Kat agreed to meet her mother and the rest of Unit Bravo after she got off work for the weekly briefing. Work had dragged on, as it was wont to do on a Friday, and she had been looking forward to the meeting all day. 

Things had been peaceful around Wayhaven the last couple of weeks, and while the break had been pleasant, Kat missed having an excuse to hang out with the vampires. The only time she'd been to the Warehouse had been the twice-weekly training sessions Adam insisted she have. By the time she was finished with those, she didn't want to do anything but shower and fall into bed. 

In a vague hope that Nate would have some time to play that evening, Kat had brought her guitar along. It seemed like ages had passed since the last time they'd been able too. Even if he didn't, she would have been happy to just hang out with them rather than in her empty apartment. 

Unfortunately, the evening was not going as she'd hoped. 

Felix and Nate had to go on patrol almost immediately after the meeting was done. Adam had whisked away with the paperwork Rebecca had brought. And Mason. Mason had vanished as soon as it was clear he was free to go.

Leaving her and Rebecca alone.

The fire crackling in the hearth and the ticking of the big grandfather clock in the corner were the only sounds for a long time. Rebecca's eyes kept drifting toward the door, to where Kat's guitar was stashed, then back to her hands. Kat was just about ready to get up and leave when her mother finally spoke. 

"I'd almost forgotten you had it." Rebecca's voice was so soft; her words were almost drowned out by the crackling of the fireplace. 

Kat looked sharply over to where her mother was sitting. Rebecca appeared smaller than usual in one of the high-backed armchairs, hunched into herself. She met her daughter's gaze for a moment before her eyes were drawn back to the guitar case leaning against the wall. The rook embossed on the cover half-hidden behind a potted plant. 

"He used to play down at the Seagull's Cry occasionally, I loved going to listen." Rebecca's voice took on a wistful note, "He was a wonder to see on stage, alone there against the lights."

"I know." To her surprise, Kat found her voice had taken on the same wistful note Rebecca's held. She met her mother's eyes, not remembering if Rebecca had told her that little snippet of her father or not. Judging from the surprise written plainly across her face, Kat guessed it hadn't been. "They have a couple of pictures of him on the wall behind the stage."

A hope Kat thought she'd squashed years ago welled up in her chest. Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "Mum, you know, I play there every other Friday, as long as I'm avail-"

She was interrupted by the shrill ringing of Rebecca's phone.

Kat snapped her mouth shut as she watched her mother pull the offending thing out of her pocket, glance at the screen, then look apologetically at her.

"I have to take this."

"of course." The words came out stilted, from a mouth to stiff to smile. 

She felt a sudden kinship with Nate and his general dislike for technology right then, as she watched her mother stride out the door, phone pressed to her ear. 

A swirl of emotions hit Kat then, anger and frustration mixed with heartache. Anger at her mother for once again prioritizing the agency. Anger at herself for allowing the hope in the first place. 

Suddenly restless, Kat stood, blinking back tears. _I thought we were done crying over mum,_ she told herself, furiously. _It never does any good._ She ground her teeth, pacing across the lovely antique rug as though she were trying to wear furrows through its pattern. 

Her intentions had been to stay at least until Nate and Felix got back from patrol, but now? Now all she wanted to do was go home and curl up in a big, soft blanket and try to forget the conversation had happened. Forget her childish hope that Rebecca would ever have _time_ for her.

The thoughts spinning through her head were so overwhelming she didn't realize Mason had re-entered the room until she nearly ran headlong into him. She barely managed to stop before she smashed her nose into his collarbone. Surprised, she blinked up at him, only to find him looking down at her with a bemused expression. 

He quirked an eyebrow when she caught his eye. Rocking back on his heels slightly, he ran a speculative eye down her body. Letting it linger a little on certain places. 

Kat's skin tingled under his gaze. Abruptly she found herself becoming all too aware of the way her dress slid against her body, the tickle of a loose curl against her neck. Her pulse ratcheted up a notch, the tension of anger morphing into a tension of another kind altogether. 

A slow smile slid across his mouth as he watched her through dark lashes, clearly enjoying the effect he had on her. She tried to scowl up at him, though it lacked any real heat. At this point, she'd welcome any distractions from her dashed hopes. 

To her annoyance, his smile only grew in reaction, and he settled back onto his feet, leaning into her slightly.

"You're looking rather," he leaned farther over her, lips scant inches from her ear, "Tense." 

His breath washed over the side of her neck, and she erupted in goose pimples, every bit of her aware of his proximity. She stood stock-still, not trusting her legs to hold her if she moved.

His lips nearly brushed the shell of her ear with his next whisper, and heat lanced straight to her core.

"Maybe I can help with that."

She was going to melt, she was going to combust, right there in the middle of the living room. 

She could barely remember why she'd been so upset in the first place. 

He stepped away from her then, and she swayed toward him, as though there were something physical connecting them. 

* * *

Mason watched her sway slightly, relishing the sight of her, firelight flickering along the curve of her cheek, the arch of her brow.

The slightly parted bow of her lips.

He could hear her heart racing, could practically _feel_ the want radiating off of her. For several long moments, he just looked, savoring her reaction. It had been proving more and more difficult lately to draw this kind of response from her. Unless, of course, he surprised her, as he'd just done. 

At the moment, it was taking all of his not inconsiderable willpower to resist backing her onto the couch. Never mind this was a common area, and never mind how much Nate would frown at his precious furniture being put to such use. 

Mason wanted.

He wanted.

_Wanted._

But Kat had to be the one to take the lead. She wanted something he wouldn't, couldn't give, and as much as he wanted her, he would never push her into doing something she wasn't comfortable with.

So he teased, and flirted, and _hoped._

Kat was starting to catch her breath, some of the dazed, 'just hit over the head' look beginning to fade from her face, and it was with a twinge of regret that Mason turned toward the door. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets before sauntering away, throwing a look back over his shoulder as he walked. A bit gratified to see a flicker of disappointment in Kat's eyes. 

Jerking his head toward the door, he beckoned her to follow.

"Come on."

* * *

Kat watched Mason walk away, confusion joining the multitude of other emotions in her head. For a moment, just a moment, she'd been sure he was about to kiss her. Maybe pin her up against the wall. Those long, clever fingers of his sliding up- 

She stopped herself from following that particularly dangerous line of thought.

His going from sultry flirtation to almost indifference threw her for a moment, though it wasn't terribly surprising. He tended to do that sort of thing.

The sense of disappointment that he'd given up so quickly surprised her, though. Though the heat between them had been consistently growing, his flirtations had started to feel routine, comfortable, something to look forward to, rather like her cup of coffee in the morning. 

Was _he_ getting tired of this game they were playing?

Head still muddled with thoughts, she responded to Mason's command instinctively, following him out of the living room and into the warren of hallways that made up the Warehouse. She'd spent enough time wandering the halls by now that she was reasonably familiar with the layout. It was a testament to how scrambled her thoughts were that she didn't realize where he was taking her till they were standing by the doors to the training room. 

Kat balked when Mason opened one of the doors, clearly meaning for her to go in. She eyed him, then the room beyond with distaste. 

There were many ways she could think of to relieve tension with Mason, none of them had anything to do with anything in that room. 

"Mason," she began, then groaned when he jerked a thumb toward the entrance. 

Kat groaned again. Nothing good ever happened to her in there. Adam was absolutely adamant that if she were going to be out in the field with them, she had to know at least the basics of fighting supernaturals. Never mind that she specialized in research and was much more at home curled up with a book in the library than on the mat, getting beaten to a pulp. 

Never minding her almost uncanny ability to talk her way out of most situations. _"Most is not all, and I refuse to have to tell your mother we lost you because you tried to_ talk _to a rampaging supernatural." Adams'_ voice echoed in her head. It was just as irritating in her memory as it had been when he'd said it, more so because she knew he was right. 

Last time she'd been in here, Felix had nearly broken her nose. 

Swallowing a sigh, she followed Mason into the room, barely restraining yet another groan when he strode to the shelf of protective equipment and retrieved a couple sets of hand wraps. 

There wasn't going to be much use in arguing, she knew, but she had to try. "Mason," she cringed a little at the whiny note in her voice, but continued nevertheless, "I'm not even wearing the right things." 

He paused, turning to give her a look over his shoulder that told her he hadn't missed the petulance in her tone. He eyed her dress for a moment before answering.

"You planning to start wearing pants more often, sweetheart?" 

The quirk of his brow and the flatness of his tone told her he already knew her answer, and she made a face at him. He turned back to the shelf, but not before she caught his smile. 

He threw two rolled wraps to her over his shoulder, and she fumbled for them, nearly dropping one, then both of them. It was pure luck she managed to hang onto them at all. When she looked up, Mason was very studiously tending to his own hand wraps, lip caught between his teeth in a way Kat instinctively knew was to keep from laughing. 

Frowning, she followed his example. 

She wasn't done complaining, however. She might be going along with whatever he had planned, but that didn't mean she had to go quietly. "So what are you planning to do, pumble me till I'm so mad at you I forget to be upset with my mum?" she didn't bother to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. 

Mason smirked up at her through dark lashes, "I didn't think you'd take me up on any of my other offers."

"I might have"

His only reply was an unbelieving snort.

Rolling her eyes, she finished her first hand and started on her second, slowly backing towards the mat. She'd have turned around, but last time she'd done so, she'd ended up flat on her face, Adam practically sitting on her and reading her a lecture in never turning her back on an opponent. 

She wasn't going to give Mason a chance to sneak attack today. 

Standing ready, she was surprised when he didn't immediately follow her. Instead, he turned to one of the benches along the wall, shrugging out of his jacket. To her consternation, he peeled off his tight t-shirt, folding it and his jacket over the bench. 

Kat let herself fall unheeded out of her ready stance, marveling at the lean, muscled expanse of his back. His freckles continued across his shoulders, scattered on his skin like stars. As he turned, her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the line of dark hair trailing down his stomach and disappearing into his low slung jeans. 

_Get ahold of yourself, Kat,_ she thought, _it's not like this is the first time you've seen him shirtless._ When she did finally manage to jerk her eyes upward, Mason was wearing the most self-satisfied smirk she'd ever seen. Heat rose to her cheeks when he quirked an eyebrow at her. 

From one second to the next, as if someone had thrown a switch, he went from teasing to serious. That was all the warning she got before he launched himself at her. 

She moved to block his first blow. Too slow. He gave her what was, from him, a love tap to the ribs. It still hurt, bad, but she probably wouldn't have a bruise in the morning. 

After that, she had no time to think anything beyond block, dodge, and jab.

They went at it for what seemed like an eternity to Kat, though it was probably closer to half an hour. Mason was extremely considerate. Not precisely pulling his punches, but not hitting as hard as usual. Either that or the twice-weekly sessions were starting to pay off. To her annoyance, he hadn't even broken a sweat, and she had only managed to land a couple of very lucky hits. 

Which was why, when one of his wraps started to unravel, and he was distracted for a moment, instead of using the time as a breather, like she usually would have, Kat attacked. He was half-turned away from her and didn't see her coming in time. She managed to get a leg between his and twist, riding him down to the mat. The position should have put her straddling him, pinning him down. Somehow, as he was falling, Mason twisted, eel-like, and Kat was the one to end up flat on her back. 

The fall hurt. She lay half winded, arms pinned at her side by the half-naked vampire sitting astride her. There was blood in her mouth. She guessed she'd bitten the inside of her cheek at some point. 

All of her discomforts faded into the background, however, when he leaned forward slightly. She was suddenly, acutely aware of his weight on her hips, the heat of him, the way his restraining fingers stroked lightly over her skin. 

She was having trouble catching her breath, and she didn't think it had anything to do with the workout she'd just done. It was all she could do to stop herself from arching up to grind herself against him. 

She wanted to. 

Wanted to so badly it was a physical ache. 

Was he thinking the same thing? Wishing she would? Waiting for her to make the first move? If he was, he kept it to himself. The questions and the want swirled around inside her, leaving her oversensitive and bewildered. He'd proven himself to be good at throwing her off-kilter, and this was apparently no different. 

So preoccupied was she that she almost missed it when he nodded slightly.

"You did good."

The praise was unexpected and, to her slight embarrassment, had heat pooling in her core. 

He shifted to move off of her. 

She wasn't ready for him to go, didn't want to lose the heat of him, the exquisite weight of him above her. She wanted him to stay. So she did the first thing that came to mind.

Biting her lip, she blurted, "Do I get a reward?" Her voice came out huskier than she meant it to, but she couldn't deny the effect it had on him.

Mason froze for a moment, then slowly settled himself back against her, eyes narrowed in speculation. He looked slowly down her body, and she could almost feel his gaze like a physical touch. 

"What kind of reward were you thinking?"

Was it her imagination, or was his voice a little husky too? She could feel his eyes lingering on her lips, her neck, other things. Felt it like a caress against her skin. 

She wanted him so damn bad. 

Something broke inside her, and she thought, Why not? Why keep resisting? What did it matter if he never loved her back? He was here now. There was nothing to be gained from denying something they both so obviously wanted.

 _"Nothing but a whole, unbroken heart!"_ a part of her cried. Ruthlessly she shoved the thought away.

He still had her arms pinned to her side, so she couldn't go with her immediate response, which would have been to reach up and pull him down to kiss her. Instead, she did the only other thing she could think of.

Raising her eyes to meet Mason's, Kat slowly, deliberately rolled her hips up to meet his. 

He let out a breath that was almost a moan and leaned into her. Darkening eyes half-lidded, he held himself just out of reach as she strained upward. 

"Are you sure about this, Kat?"

His question took her by surprise. She'd figured her actions would have been consent enough. She nodded vigorously, not trusting her voice at that moment. It must have been enough for him, though, because he leaned in to capture her mouth.

Neither of them had realized just how close to the edge of the mat they were until Mason's shoe squeaked against the hard wooden floor. 

And Kat screamed.

* * *

_Blood in her mouth, body slick with sweat or blood, she didn't know. Something held her captive, pinning her arms and body and legs down to the bed beneath her. She fought against the straps, terror making her stomach lurch. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, vision narrowing, a black tunnel was all she could see._

_Everything hurt, and if he managed to keep ahold of her this time, everything would go on hurting forever._

_Stomach heaving, she twisted, fighting for freedom._

_And all the while, Murphy's shoe squeaking against the floor as he walked._

* * *

Kat's terror hit Mason like a baseball bat to the gut, and for an instant, he didn't know if it was his or hers. 

Then she screamed. 

His senses guttered, and he reeled away from her as she bucked wildly beneath him. He stumbled over the edge of the mat. Falling to his knees, he scanned the room for threats, still half dazed. His only thought a half coherent plea. _Please, please don't let it be me she's afraid of. Please_.

As his hearing slowly returned, he could hear her short, gasping breaths, punctuated by the occasional retching sound. She would have been crying if she could have gotten the breath to do so. He almost wished she were. It would have been easier than the pained sounds she was making now. 

She had rolled away from him, coming up onto her knees, where she hunched onto all fours. Mason wasn't sure how she was managing to stay up. She was shaking so badly she looked almost blurred. He desperately wanted to reach out to her to soothe her fears. But without knowing what had triggered this in the first place, he couldn't risk touching her and making it worse. 

* * *

Panic lanced through Kat, white-hot and burning, leaving nothing behind but the desperate need to get away. She rolled to her hands and knees but found she was trembling too much to stand. Her stomach roiled, and she retched, managing to not throw up by pure luck. Tears rolled down her face, but she couldn't get enough breath in to properly sob.

She was dimly aware that her dress had, at some point in the evening, gotten bunched up about her hips, leaving her underwear-clad ass hanging out for anyone to see. Her mortification felt like it was a long way off. Absurdly, the only clear thought she had was regret that it was an old pair, plain and boring. 

She would have laughed then if she could breathe. 

Mason moved to kneel in front of her. Close enough to touch but not doing so, hands resting on his knees where she could see them. His voice, when he spoke, was soft, almost gentle. 

"Kat, look at me."

For all it's gentleness, there was an edge of command in his tone that managed to pierce through her swirling thoughts, forcing her head up. His features swam in her vision, but she found his eyes, locking onto the steady grey, letting it ground her. There was nothing of the scorn or mockery she'd feared to see in his eyes, just an unwavering understanding. 

It was almost enough to break her. 

With a shuddering gasp of breath, she lurched toward him. 

He caught her before she sent them both tumbling backward onto the mat. Letting her momentum carry them, so he was sitting properly instead of kneeling. Warm arms encircled her as he deftly gathered her into his lap. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, wrapping her own arms around his chest.

He didn't say anything.

He didn't need to. 

Not with the comforting weight of his arms against her back, hand stroking her hair. 

Not when all she could hear was his steady heartbeat. 


	2. Chapter 2

Time seemed to stretch into something meaningless as Kat and Mason sat on the rough mat, with the world falling away into silence. Kat was slowly remembering how to breathe, how to stop shaking. Mason was holding her, gentle fingers stroking her back, her shoulders, her hair. 

Somehow, she thought, this is the safest place in the world. Sitting here against the vampire, listening to his heartbeat, the slow inhale and exhale of his breath. 

Half a year ago, if someone had told her she’d be turning to the taciturn and often intimidating agent for comfort, she would have laughed at them. Yet here she sat, face buried in the crook of his neck, his arms sheltering and grounding her. 

Life could take strange turns sometimes. 

Even as she regained control of herself, Kat found herself reluctant to move. She didn’t want to break whatever peace this was.

The longer they sat, though, the more likely someone would come in and interrupt them. Nate or Felix would probably question her about what had happened, and while they would be sympathetic, she did _not_ want to talk about it. Adam would be more - understanding, but even he might ask questions. With her fear receding, she felt a bit foolish to have been sent into a panic by something so small, so mundane. 

The last thing she wanted was to have to explain herself.

Mason was growing restless, though, now that Kat was no longer in a panic. Pulling back from her slightly to unwrap the hand wraps, she had completely forgotten he was still wearing them. Hers had come off at some point; she couldn’t remember when.

She wasn’t ready for him to pull away yet. Once he did, that would be it; they would go their separate ways. Kat would have to go back to a cold and empty apartment, to a bed that offered no comfort. 

Worse, she could stay in her room here, surrounded by friends, yet utterly alone. There would be no escaping the nightmares tonight, she knew. 

At least if she went home, no one would hear her when she woke up screaming. 

If only she could convince Mason to stay. 

Maybe, just maybe. Even with exhaustion turning Kat’s limbs leaden and her head muzzy, she dug to find the slightest ember remaining of the heat from before. Kat chased the spark with a desperation born of loneliness and fear. Clung to it as though it were her last hope. It wasn’t difficult, not with Mason’s bare chest pressed against her, not with the lean muscles of his back dancing under her questing fingers. She turned her head slightly, tilting it till her lips met with the column of his throat. 

He froze when her lips met his skin, fingers tightening around her arms. She could feel his breath catch as she kissed and nipped her way up to his jaw. 

“Kat,” he murmured, her name coming out halfway between a growl and a moan. 

She smiled slightly against his skin, reveling in drawing such a noticeable reaction from the usually reticent vampire. It was generally the other way around, with Mason reducing her to a puddle with only a few touches, a few kisses.

Ok, maybe he wasn’t fainting into her arms, but a girl could dream, right? Perhaps she could get there given enough time. 

Kat’s musings were interrupted by Mason, gently but firmly pushing her back far enough he could look at her. He stared down into her face. The glazed look in his eyes slightly mollified her, though she couldn’t think why he would be pulling away. Silence stretched between them once more as Mason studied her face, breaking only when he heaved a sigh as if to say ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’ 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he finally asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?” 

“I thought it was pretty self-explanatory,” Kat said, carefully keeping her tone light. She reached between them, running a finger over his chest, tracing patterns in his freckles. Before she’d connected more than three, his hand snapped up, fingers latching around her wrist. 

Mason looked down at her, his eyes drifting to her lips as she caught the bottom one between her teeth, then lower as she settled herself more firmly against him, sliding her legs around his waist. A muscle fluttered in his jaw, and she thought he might be arguing with himself. 

“Mason,” she said his name softly, trying to draw his attention back from where it had wandered, “I want this. I want you. Tonight.” 

His eyes flicked back up to hers, the desire in them enough to make her heart stumble, for all she’d been expecting it. 

“Please?” 

It was as if her plea had broken a dam. Mason all but lunged forward to claim her lips. 

It wasn’t the first time they’d kissed; Kat could count on both hands the number of times she’d let it happen, or she would have if she’d been able to think of anything but the vampire kissing her. It lacked none of the heat, the power of the first time.

He bit her lip, and she arched against him, opening her mouth to him, losing herself in the feel of him, the taste of him. His fingers found the edge of her dress, still bunched about her hips, found the smooth skin beneath, stroking, skimming up her side. Kat let her own hands wander, delighting in the way his skin seemed to twitch under her fingers. 

She bit back a breathy moan when he kissed his way from her lips, down her jaw, her neck. 

“Tell me-” he whispered against her skin, “-what frightened you.” 

His words were like a bucket of icy water, and Kat yanked herself as far away from him as her position allowed. A hand tangled in the fabric of her dress as he tried to release her. 

She couldn’t go far, not with her legs wrapped around his waist. Not with one of his hands still tangled in her dress. Instead, she held herself at arm’s length from him, “I don’t want to talk about it, please, I just-” her words trailed off, a lump forming in her throat. “-I just want to forget it happened,” she whispered. 

She glanced up at him through her lashes, only to find him staring down at her. His grey eyes were steady and sincere when they caught hers. With surprising tenderness, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, letting his fingertips glide along her cheek. Any other time and she would have closed her eyes to lean into the touch, but his gaze held her captivated.

“I don’t need details, sweetheart.” The endearment seemed to lack its usual sarcastic edge. Kat barely noticed, though, as he went on. “I need to know, so it doesn’t happen again.” His hand lingered, fingers resting lightly against her skin, thumb tracing over her cheek. 

She thought she’d cried herself out, but embarrassed tears were threatening; she could feel them trying to well up. “It’s so stupid, though,” she whispered, not fully trusting her voice. “You’ll think I’m- i-it’s stupid.” 

“Tell me, anyway.”

Turning her face away from him, pressing it into his palm, she did. “It was your damned shoe, I think. Murphy-” she had to stop to let a shiver of fear pass, and she wrapped her arms around herself “-Murphy’s shoe squeaked...” She fell silent, unable to continue through the lump closing her throat. Her shoulders were hunching up to her ears as she fought off the memories threatening to overwhelm again.

Mason didn’t say anything, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, terrified of what she’d see in his face. His fingers traced down her neck, curling around to rest on her shoulder, warm and comforting. 

Long moments stretched out, expectant. 

Still, he said nothing. 

“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.” The confession was dragged out of her by Mason’s continued silence. “Some-sometimes Douglas’ shoes squeak. The first time it happened after I came back, I-I almost dove under my desk.” Suddenly more exhausted than she’d ever been, Kat tipped forward to rest her forehead against Mason’s chest. 

He wasn’t laughing at her, at least. She’d been afraid he’d think her a silly little fool, or worse, weak and pathetic. He must not have, though, for he rested his chin atop her head, sighing into her hair. Briefly, it felt like he pressed a kiss into her curls. 

Probably her imagination, she thought. 

“Mason, I know I keep turning you down,” her voice came out smaller than she’d meant it to, embarrassingly timid and muffled by her position. She could tell he’d heard her, though, because he let out an amused snort into her hair. A faint smile touched her lips, the first in what felt like hours. It fell as quickly as it came when she continued. “Even with everything tonight-I want- I-urgh…” she screwed up her eyes, trying to get her thoughts into some sort of order. 

Mason had gone very, very still. 

Kat took a deep breath to steady herself, “I want you, Mason. No strings, no expectations, I just…” 

The words “I just don’t want to be alone.” and “I just need someone to hold me for a while.” tangled on her tongue with other, far weightier confessions. Things she was almost afraid to think, for fear he would somehow read them on her face. 

Her voice trailed off as she stumbled over the words fighting to be said.

_I love you._

Clamping her lips tight over her traitor tongue, Kat pulled back from Mason to look up into his face. Speculative grey eyes met her dark ones as their gazes locked. 

* * *

Mason looked into Kat’s upturned face, a confusing swirl of emotions tightening his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. He’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her in the station. Wanted her from the first time he’d managed to pull one of those delightfully human reactions from her. And now, here she was, willing in his arms. The echo of Kat’s gasping, broken sobs made him want to wrap her up in a blanket in front of the fire rather than take her to bed. 

At that moment, he hated Murphy more than he could remember ever hating anyone. 

Running his thumb over the faint marks left on her throat by the rogue vampire, he started to shake his head. A rather incredulous snort from Kat made him pause, though. His eyes snapped to hers, only to find them narrowed and her lips tightening to a thin line.

“Really? All this, and _you_ turn me down?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, “Do you think I’m in so much distress I’m not thinking straight?” 

That had been precisely the line of reasoning he’d been pursuing, but he was wise enough not to say anything as she leaned in, craning her neck up till their noses almost touched. 

“I know I’ve said I want it to mean something,” she murmured, eyes no longer focused on his, her gaze wandering to his lips, “I know what I’ve said, but I’m a big girl, Mason, I can change my mind.”

He could hear her pulse quickening with desire, his own speeding up to match. Movement caught his eye, and he snapped his gaze down to her mouth as she rolled her lips together. He was aware of every place she was pressed against him. Heat practically rolled off of her. 

She leaned in till their lips were only a breath apart, “Please, Mason, don’t leave me alone tonight.”

Then she was kissing him, or he was kissing her, or maybe they both moved at the same time. 

Her lips were rough against his, chapped from where she chewed on them, salty from when she’d been crying. Sensations flooded him, her mouth hot against his, the rough weave of the dress she wore, the way her heart fluttered like a bird caged in her chest. She was responsive to his every touch, arching against him as he slid a hand up her back, letting out a muffled moan when he caught her lip in his teeth. 

She opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss as he slipped his hands up underneath her dress, pushing it higher as he trailed fingertips over her stomach, her sides until he encountered the underside of her bra. Tracing his fingers along the edge, he reached around, deftly unhooking the undergarment. Her surprised squeak turned into another breathy moan as he brought one hand back around to cup her breast, the other pressing her closer to his chest. 

Moving from her lips, Mason trailed kisses along Kat’s jawline, drawing a gasp from her. She tilted her head up, giving him access to her throat, to the faint scar there. He could feel it. The edges puckered slightly, despite the efforts of the Agency healers. He pressed a kiss to the spot, an apology, and a promise. Never again. 

A shiver coursed through her when he nipped her sensitive skin, and the husky, needy way she said his name sent a lance of heat straight through him. 

He needed her. Now. 

* * *

“Mason,” Kat gasped, panting as his thumb teased across her nipple. She ground herself against him, the friction delicious against the throbbing need between her legs. She tried to organize her thoughts, but they kept slipping away from her with every move he made. “Mason,” her voice came out in a moan, and he chuckled against her, the sound vibrating through his chest, “we should move.” 

He pulled away from her slightly, and she felt a pang of loss when his mouth left her skin, but she pushed on anyway. “I don’t want to be interrupted.” 

Mason quirked a brow at her, “You think they wouldn’t hear us before they came in?” 

“You feel like being chewed out by Adam? And I’m not letting you fuck me on this mat. It doesn’t matter how good you are; rug burns on my ass are _not_ how I want to end my day.”

“You can be on top if you’re worried. I’ll heal.” There was a note of amusement in his voice and a sparkle in his storm grey eyes. 

Though his words suggested resistance, he slipped his hands off her, caressing her skin as he slid his hands from her dress, the gentle stroking of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure through her body. She missed the contact immediately but unwrapped her legs from around his waist anyway. 

With her luck, If they stayed, Felix would come barging in while they were in the middle of... stuff, which would put a damper on the whole mood. Standing had her legs twinging in protest from the workout before and the awkward position she’d been sitting in. 

Mason followed her, coming onto his knees, hands sliding down to her thighs, fingers digging lightly into her flesh. The heat pooling in her center threatened to boil over when he looked up at her through his lashes, eyes full of the same need she felt. Her breath caught in her throat at the wicked smile curving his lips as he pulled her closer. 

Nothing existed save for his hands on her, and the warmth radiating off his body as he stood, close enough she was nearly flush with his body. Hands on her hips, Mason moved in a graceful dance backward toward the door, pulling her with him. Kat followed readily, unwilling to lose the contact, the warmth of him. 

They made it as far as the hallway before giving in to the demanding heat between them. Mason pinned Kat between himself and the wall, stooping to capture her mouth again. She kissed him back, hard, every nerve in her body on fire with need. Standing tiptoed, she wrapped her arms around his neck, anchoring herself, winding one hand into his hair, reveling in the groan of pleasure it elicited from him. 

Desperate for more contact, she wrapped a leg around him, grinding herself against him as best she could while they were standing. He dropped his hands to her backside and boosted her so she could wrap both legs about him. She could feel the hard length of him through his jeans, and she let her head loll back at the flood of sensations when he moved against her. If he kept this up, she was going to come, right here in the hallway. 

Kat only became aware they had moved when she felt Mason fumbling with one hand for a doorknob. He wasn’t willing to take his mouth from her skin, alternating between her mouth and her neck and anywhere else he could reach. She probably wasn’t helping the situation either, with one hand still threaded through Mason’s hair and the other roaming the naked expanse of his back. The door finally sprang open, and they nearly ended up on the floor.

Letting her feet drop to the carpet, Kat moved backward a few steps toward the large bed dominating the room. Mason’s gaze tracked her, a cat watching a mouse, and he kicked the door shut before prowling toward her. Grinning cheekily at him, Kat caught the hem of her dress, and in one movement, lifted it off over her head. Her bra, already unhooked, tangled with her dress as she dragged it off, tumbling to the floor. 

Mason’s eyes darkened as he took in her soft curves, the swell of her breast, the way her nipples peaked in the slight coolness of the air. She could see his breath quicken, could feel his gaze on her like fire, almost a physical touch. Ordinarily, she would have felt exposed, uncomfortable, but with Mason’s hungry eye on her, she felt-

“Exquisite.” He breathed. Suddenly he was right there, hands roaming her newly exposed flesh, mouth covering hers again—the feel of his naked chest against her own exhilarating. 

Somehow she managed to remember to slip off her shoes. 

Mason’s mouth left hers, trailing kisses down her neck, fingers tracing slow patterns on her skin. Catching a breast in his mouth, he gently teased her nipple with tongue and teeth, one of his hands coming up to cup her other breast. Kat couldn’t help a disappointed keening when his mouth left her, only for it to turn into a moan as he knelt before her, pressing little nips and kisses to her stomach, her navel, her hip. 

Fingers catching on the edge of her underwear, Mason glanced up at her, a brow raised in silent question. The sight of him, kneeling at her feet, eyes dark with wanting as he asked, nearly sent her over the edge. She could barely find her voice to reply, finally managing to squeak, “Yes. Yes, please, Mason.”

His answering smirk sent her legs trembling, and he held her gaze. Deliberately, torturously, agonizingly slowly, he hooked fingers into the top of her panties and dragged them down her legs. Still holding her gaze, and just as slowly, he leaned in and put his mouth to her. 

Kat’s knees nearly buckled. 

The only thing stopping her from falling was Mason’s hands on her hips. He sucked at her clit, tongue gently flicking the sensitive nub. Waves of pleasure crashed over her, and Kat cried out, hands flailing for purchase. She found the bedpost behind her with one hand, the other tangling in Mason’s hair, all thoughts of being careful not to pull gone from her mind. 

Nothing mattered; nothing existed outside of his mouth on her. She nearly bit through her lip, trying to keep quiet.

When she came, her knees did give out. 

Gasping for breath Kat flopped bonelessly backward onto the bed. Mason let out a satisfied chuckle as he followed her, covering her body with his and capturing her mouth again. His kisses were gentle, almost tender now, as he coaxed her back into herself, grounding her with soft, featherlight touches. 

It didn’t take long for the heat to build again. 

She could taste herself on his lips—the memory of how it got there was a heady thing. The ache was back, the need. She wanted him, wanted him inside of her, wanted to feel him moving against her. Kat reached between them, fumbling with the button of his jeans.

Mason chuckled against her skin, “Impatient aren’t you, sweetheart.” 

“You’re one to talk. You’ve been trying to get me in bed since you met me.” The button slipped from her clumsy fingers, and she abandoned it in favor of running those same fingers along his waistband.

Raising himself onto his elbows, Mason regarded her with a smirk, the crystal around his neck swinging just above her throat. “oh no, Kat, you’ve got me all wrong. I’m more than happy to play a long game.” His voice dropped to a husky growl that sent heat straight to her core, “And I can keep this up all night if you want.” 

Heat flooded Kat, from the suggestion, from the way his voice rumbled against her chest. Her body went all loose and taut in anticipation. She lost all eloquence. Mind still jumbled from her first orgasm; she couldn’t find words other than, “Mason, please.” 

He seemed to understand her, for all her fumbling at words. He rolled to the side, sitting up to reach for his bootlaces. Kat shivered when the cool air of the room washed over her flushed body, and she scrambled for the top of the bed to burrow under the comforter. Mason watched her, chuckling as he undid his jeans. 

Kat watched hungrily as the denim slid from Mason, drinking in the sight of him. She didn’t get the chance to ogle for long. He was on her in a moment. Flipping back the comforter to expose her once again to the room, he joined her on the bed. Kneeling between her legs, he looked down at her, eyes roving her body as though he were trying to memorize every line, every curve of her. 

A brow quirked in challenge, Kat spread her legs apart a little further, inviting. 

He didn’t come down on her all at once as she’d expected. Instead, he leaned in slowly, inching his hands up her thighs, fingers stroking, kneading as they slid up, up, up. His mouth followed his hands, trailing teasing kisses across her skin. She was on fire, the heat, the throbbing need in her core building with every stroke, every kiss. 

She writhed beneath his ministrations, her fingers tracing featherlight patterns over his skin as soon as she could reach him. By the time he claimed her mouth again, they were both breathing in panting gasps. 

By the time the tip of Mason’s cock nudged her entrance, she was ready to explode. 

Toes curling, she arched into him, impatient, desperate to have him inside of her. He pushed forward, finally burying himself in her, and only the hazy remembrance of the other UB members being in the warehouse had her biting down on her already bruised lip in an attempt to stifle her moans. 

“No,” he murmured, “Let me hear you.”

Kat did as he asked, letting herself give voice to her mounting pleasure as he thrust into her, setting a deliberate, steady rhythm. 

She couldn’t have stayed quiet if she’d wanted to. 

His hands were everywhere, stroking, teasing, his lips hot against her skin, kissing everywhere but her mouth. Each thrust brought her closer to the edge, and she arched up to meet him, thrust for thrust. Her fingers dug into his back as he sucked at the tender flesh of her throat. It would probably leave a mark, but she was past caring.

Close, she was so close.

Mason kissed his way up her neck, up her cheek, till he was right by her ear. One hand twining his fingers with hers, the other cupping her breast, tweaking her nipple. His voice was low, more growl than whisper as he commanded, “Come for me, Kat.” 

She did, shattering around him with a cry. A moment later, he followed her over the edge with a cry of his own. 

Neither of them were able to move for several long seconds. Mason slumped down atop Kat, though he was careful not to rest his whole weight on her. She lay beneath him, languid, delicious exhaustion lining her limbs, thoughts drifting. 

When Mason pushed himself up so he could look at her, the self-satisfied smirk on his lips told her all she needed to know about how she looked. The smirk grew as he traced a finger over the junction of her shoulder and throat, and she knew he must have left a mark. He pressed a kiss to the spot before rolling off her. 

Kat tensed, expecting Mason to shoo her from his bed. The expulsion never came. Instead, he turned off the bedside lamp, flipped the comforter over the two of them. She was too surprised to resist when he wrapped an arm about her and pulled her into his chest. Nestling his chin into the top of her head, he curled himself around her. 

She lay there frozen in indecision as Mason’s breathing evened out behind her, as his hold on her relaxed a bit. 

Surely this wasn’t an invitation. He didn’t _really_ want her to stay. This was supposed to be a one-time thing. Now that he’d finally gotten her to bed, he was going to lose interest, right? No matter how much she yearned for him to care for her the same way she cared for him, she couldn’t let her heart get carried away. 

Not again. 

Exhausted, heart aching, she pulled away from him slightly, testing to see if he were actually asleep. His arm tightened around her briefly, but there were no other signs of waking. Carefully, gradually, she slipped from his grasp. Sliding onto the floor, she had to feel around for her clothing. She wouldn’t risk turning on a light. 

Her foot found her dress, and a groping hand found her bra. Finding her shoes was easy. They sat right next to the bed, where she’d left them. Search as she might, though, her underwear were nowhere to be found. Finally, she gave up, not wanting to risk thumping too loudly and waking Mason. 

She didn’t bother to dress fully, just pulled her dress on for the short trek to her room down the hall. 

Dim light spilled across the room when she opened the door, and Kat looked back at the bed once before leaving, heart heavy.

* * *

LIght spilling around the edge of the curtain hit Mason across the face. He half woke, irritated that he’d forgotten to make sure they were hanging right before he’d gone to sleep. Kat was no longer nestled against him, and he reached out blearily to find her before his senses woke enough to tell him he was alone. 

Disappointment hit him then, strong enough to jolt him the rest of the way into wakefulness. It sat in his chest like a weight, and he had to admit it wasn’t entirely because of his vague notions of fucking her again, having her laid out before him, half asleep, the morning light warming both of them. 

Grinding his teeth in frustration, he slumped back into his pillows. He was half-hard, just thinking about her, laying on a pillow that smelled of her, under a blanket that also smelled of her. She surrounded him, even when she was gone. 

He needed to do laundry, that or he needed to find Kat and coax her back into his bed. 

One question plagued him as he got out of bed, showered, and dressed.

Why would she leave?


	3. Epilog

Several days later, Kat wearily let herself into her room at the Warehouse. The workout with Adam had gone well, he'd even given her a slight nod, and an "adequate." From anyone else, it would have been scarce praise, but from Adam... Needless to say, Kat was feeling pretty good about herself. The shower beckoned, and she headed toward the bathroom, pulling off her sweaty, smelly clothing. Still half-dressed as she passed her bed, she noticed a small something laying on her pillow.

At first glance, it appeared to be a small cloth package, but when she lifted it, it unfolded, a piece of paper fluttering out to land on the bed. Flushing, she recognized the pair of underpants she'd left in Mason's room. They'd been through the wash, and the image of Mason finding them, washing them, then neatly folding them branded itself in her already embarrassed brain. It was a very... thoughtful gesture, Kat was half surprised he hadn't simply shoved them into her pocket, or worse, just handed them to her. 

Setting them back on the bed, she retrieved the paper from where it lay. Unfamiliar, angular handwriting scrawled across the note. She read it, then reread it, torn between embarrassment, and amusement.

"Next time, bring a laundry bag."


End file.
